Spray pant won’t fix rust.

A Band-Aid won’t remove a tumor.

Wax on the hood won’t cure the cough of a motor. If the problem is inside, you have to go inside.

I learned that this morning. I rolled out of bed early. . . Real early. So early that Denalyn tried to con­vince me not to go to the office. “It’s the middle of the night,” she mumbled. “What if a burglar tries to break in?”

But I’d been on vacation for a couple of weeks, and I was rested. My energy level was as high as the stack of things to do on my desk, so I drove to the church.

I must confess that the empty streets did look a bit scary. And there was that attempted break-in at the office a few weeks back. So I decided to be careful. I entered the office complex, disarmed the alarm, and then re-armed it so it would sound if anyone tried to enter.

Brilliant, I thought.

I had been at my desk for only a few seconds when the sirens screamed. Somebody is trying to get in! I raced down the hall, turned off the alarm, ran back to my office, and dialed 911. After I hung up, it occurred to me that the thieves could get in before the police arrived. I dashed back down the hall and re-armed the system.

“They won’t get me,” I mumbled defiantly as I punched in the code.

As I turned to go back to the office, the sirens blared again. I disarmed the alarm and reset it. I could just picture those frustrated burglars racing back into the shadows every time they set off the alarm.

I walked to a window to look for the police. When I did, the alarm sounded a third time. Hope the police get here soon, I thought as I again disarmed and reset the alarm.

I was walking back to my office when-that’s right-the alarm sounded again. I disarmed it and paused. Wait a minute; this alarm system must be fouled up.

I went back to my office to call the alarm company. Just my luck, I thought as I dialed, of all the nights for the system to malfunction.

“Our alarm system keeps going off,” I told the fellow who answered. “We’ve either got some determined thieves or a malfunction.”

Miffed, I drummed my fingers on my desk as he called up our account.

“There could be one other option,” he volunteered. “What else?”

“Did you know that your building is equipped with a motion detector?”

Oh boy.

About that time I saw the lights from the police car. I walked outside. “Uh, I think the problem is on the inside, not the outside,” I told them.

They were nice enough not to ask for details, and I was embarrassed enough not to volunteer any. But I did learn a lesson: You can’t fix an inside problem by going outside.

I spent an hour hiding from thieves who weren’t there, faulting a system that hadn’t failed, and calling for help I didn’t need. I thought the problem was out there. All along it was in here.

Am I the only one to ever do that? Am I the only one to blame an inside problem on an outside source? Alarms sound in your world as well. Maybe not with bells and horns, but with problems and pain. Their purpose is to signal impending danger. A fit of anger is a red flare. Uncontrolled debt is a flashing light. A guilty conscience is a warning sign indicating trouble within. Icy relationships are posted notices announcing anything from neglect to abuse.

You have alarms in your life. When they go off, how do you respond? Be honest, now. Hasn’t there been a time or two when you went outside for a solution when you should have gone inward?

Ever blamed your plight on Washington? (If they’d lower the tax rates, my business would work.) Inculpated your family for your failure? (Mom always liked my sister more.) Called God to account for your problems? (If he is God, why doesn’t he heal my marriage?) Faulted the church for your frail faith? (Those people are a bunch of hypocrites.)

When God Whispers Your Name

copyright [Word Publishing, 1994] Max Lucado, p. 129-132.

Used by permission